"Feedback: Humanizing Education Through
Growth and Care"
by Samuel Boenker, English
Despite what the Prayer for Generosity commands, I often count how many essays I have left in my quota or how many hours it will take to work through what remains of the stack. I daydream of what I could have been doing instead of grading or fall into pessimism as I wonder how many of my students are even going to engage my Saturday-killing feedback. I know, however, that I have to hope and extend grace to all–the same grace and patience that I need.
Still, genuine feedback is tiring. It requires focus, time, and significant mental energy and the same kind of grit and mindfulness that we demand of our students. It requires an assumption of the good in our students’ ability to grow. It requires us to welcome the prodigal son in extending more time and energy to students who are not engaged or who disrupt class or irk us or whose work requires more commentary. To me, then, quality feedback is a foundation of cura personalis and reflects our faith in our young women and men and even of the Spirit’s quiet work.
Our recent study, which invited students to provide feedback on instructor-provided feedback, seemed to largely confirm existing research concerning specificity and actionable feedback but also challenged my assumptions about timeless and length of feedback. My key takeaway was that feedback is best when it is learning-focused and respects the recipient. In other words, feedback, like our Jesuit education in general, should be humanizing.
I found that my colleagues provided feedback in different forms than me via unique rubrics, comments in a Learning Management System, or physically written comments on tests and had different protocols for students engaging with the feedback. I allow total revision; others do not. My feedback is exhaustive and detailed; others’ feedback is brief. What mattered most, though, was that the feedback was clear and growth-oriented.
Almost universally, students affirmed feedback’s value even if sometimes their perceptions of feedback’s utility was colored by grades and material concerns. Our dedication to learning and our students has the power, however, to push students beyond this fixation by encouraging mastery. One measure of that dedication was opening dialogue with students about feedback, which required the same kind of vulnerability the students face when opening their work to what seems to be our judgment. The end result, however, was a community of learners separated by age but united by a desire for growth. This dynamic taught me that ideal feedback facilitates this community focus by inviting conversation and action.
Above all, meaningful feedback proves to students that we care about them and about learning. My personal fears about my feedback entering into the study–that it was too plentiful to be actionable or would make students defensive or would be challenged–faded when I put clarity and growth first. I still find myself counting essays and hours at my desk on Saturday afternoons, but I am heartened to know that my toil is worthwhile and an extension of our mission.
